


Delicious (Tonight We Are)

by dramady, edonyx



Series: Smile Pretty for the Devil [10]
Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, American Idol RPF, lambliff
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-06 16:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/edonyx/pseuds/edonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the private becomes public, you find ways to make it work.</p><p><b>Authors' note</b>: We play with facts here a little bit. This is also most likely the last installment of this series as the boys are schmoopily happy. Thanks for those who took the trip with us!<br/><b>link to previous chapters:</b> <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/1697">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicious (Tonight We Are)

Tommy's in the bathroom using Adam's flatiron to make sure his bangs sit nice and even instead of looking like he hasn't washed his hair in a week, then realizes just how _domestic_ that is that he's doing that, and laughs. "Hey! Where's your lint roller?" Everything is still 'your', to Tommy, even if he's living here 90% of the time between going home to grab a few more things. "This isn't the sort of thing that someone like Perez is going to be at, right? Or like... I don't know." Does he look okay? Freshly bleached and dyed, in an all-black suit that compliments Adam's all-white one. Tommy's sort of certain that Adam's suit'll get dirty if Tommy even gets too close to it.

"I don't know," Adam replies from where he stands, in front of the full-length mirror. All white. He can do all white. He can. He _can_. All in the attitude. Plus how hot it will look with Tommy who's all in black and looking _fine_. "Lint roller's out here, though. Are you almost ready? We're going to be late." Which is standard, but still. He can wear all white. "Fuck Perez," he adds. "Metaphorically." Not literally. Because hello. Sick.

"I'm almost ready! That's why I was asking for the lint roller, jeez." Tommy turns the flatiron off and sets it down, coming out to see Adam. Dressed. In white. The expression on Tommy's face would be funny, except for the part where they have to _leave_. "Am I linty? Is there hair on me? Do you have any idea what you look like?" Right down to the fingerless white gloves and white boots. Shut _up_ before you even say anything: Tommy thinks Adam almost looks like an angel.

"Let me see. What do I look like?" Adam asks with a small smile. "You look amazing." Unnecessarily, he straightens Tommy's collar. "Your gloves are on the dresser and your jacket's on the back of the door. I love you." And he's still got Tommy's shoulders when he leans in to press a glossed kiss to his mouth.

For a second, Tommy's afraid to touch Adam back, just in case there's eyeliner on his fingers or something, so instead of putting his arms around Adam's waist like he normally would, Tommy's hands climb into Adam's hair. Well, now Tommy doesn't need gloss, right? "Okay, okay." Pulling away, he tugs on Adam's lower lip. "We've gotta go. Let me get my jacket. The car's here, I think, too."

Well, after Adam fixes his hair again, they can go. Honestly, Tommy. Good thing Adam loves you. He and Tommy are dichotomies with the black and the white, see? Monochromatic for the win. Tommy is lint-rolled and they slip into the back of the car and are on their way through the city.

"There's going to be a red carpet," Adam tells Tommy, toying with his fingers.

"So does that mean people are going to be talking to me?" Having pictures taken, Tommy can handle. Well, as much as he can, especially after Perez gets his greasy fingers on them. Seriously, he wants to punch that guy out. Tommy's fingers close into Adam's, squeezing them briefly. "I don't even know what I'd say. I'm fuckin' blinded by your suit." He should have had those big sunglasses from the photobooth. That'd make him look _bitchy._ "Are we gonna be, you know- I mean. People know about us, you know? But are we gonna hold hands and stuff?"

"Do you want to?" Adam asks as he laces their fingers together, watching the contrast of black and white. "There probably won't be interviewers, just photographers. It's up to you. If you want to, that's great. If you don't ...? I don't mind either, baby."

The tips of Tommy's ears turn red and he doesn't say anything. It's not that he doesn't want to, because being affectionate with Adam gets easier every time, and they've both been lucky to not have cameras all over them for the past little while. It's been _weird_ actually, even at NAMM; nobody had asked him about Adam and what they were involved in. With a sigh, he rubs his thumb against Adam's hand. "I can do pictures. That's not a big deal. I just don't know how to _be_, you know?" He touches his mouth to Adam's fingertips, where his nails are Minxed, just like Tommy's.

"You 'be' just fine." Turning in his seat, Adam slouches a little so he can look Tommy in the eye. "I don't _care_ either way. I mean I do care, but I don't. I know what we are, okay?" Which, if he thinks about it, is _so far_ from where they'd been. "That's what matters."

Tommy only nods, and his ears are still pink when they get to the benefit. But he's holding Adam's hand, fingers just a little bit tight in their grip. Cameras, yeah, and there are a _lot_ of them, taking pictures of _everyone_ that's coming up that red carpet. Adam can practically feel Tommy steel himself, feel him take that deep breath, like he's about to dive underwater. Adam himself gets one brief, dark, warm glance. Tommy wants Adam to be proud of him.

Then, if Tommy hasn't been blinded by Adam's suit, he's blinded by flashbulbs. From the moment they get out of the car. Adam goes first, instinctively standing a half-step ahead of Tommy so he can duck behind if he wants. Adam holds his hand and smiles and poses and turns. Everyone is calling his name, calling Tommy's name too, some of them. Adam's chin is up. Say what you want about him but don't say he's afraid.

Tommy pretty much keeps his head down, shaking it briefly when he hears his name. They don't want to talk to him about music, about plans for a tour or what's going to happen with the band and any albums after For Your Entertainment. He'd even be glad to hear a question about why Lisa hasn't been at appearances. But what he does with Adam is _private_, just like any relationship he'd have with anyone. But there ends up being a couple of photos where Tommy's looking at Adam with something like blatant affection, a little bit of possession, and a _lot_ of _leave us alone._ Adam's good at this. Tommy isn't.

Add to that that it seems to be an eternity and even Adam is smiled-out by the time they get inside. "Let's get a drink," he tells Tommy as they walk toward the ball room. "You did great, baby." And Adam means it too. It's not easy; he knows that. "You did really good. Beer?"

"Two or three, actually," Tommy mutters, a little smirk finally showing itself at the edge of his mouth. "You really kinda covered my ass there. I just sort of... tried to hang back, you know? I didn't want to talk about stuff that wasn't music." Wow, check the celebs that are here! That chick from Spider Man who'd been _way_ better in Interview With The Vampire, LiLo (gag), that english guy from Forgetting Sarah Marshall who's dating Katy Perry now... what? Tommy knows faces better than names, especially when it comes to this kind of celebrity. "You gonna get a martini?"

"Yes, please," Adam answers with a chuckle. They make their way toward the bar. He finds himself waving at a lot of people, familiar faces, introduced or not. "Maybe two. Oh, Katy's here. She's wearing white too! Hi!" He waves again. "This is nice, isn't it?" There are still flashbulbs, but fewer at least.

"Last formal thing I was at was Sadie's wedding. And before that... I think, grad? So, um. Sure, this is fun." The smirk climbs into a grin when Tommy gets a beer in his hand. "I seriously don't even know what to say to anyone here. Would you totally care if I went outside and had a cigarette? You could go talk to Katy or whatever if you want." There's another flash just as Tommy gets up on his toes to kiss Adam's cheek. _Fuck._ "Can't get away from it, huh."

"No. They'll follow you out." But Adam squeezes Tommy's hand and smiles at him. "If you need to have a cigarette, go. Maybe someone's out there you can talk to?" Like Lilo. Hah. At Sadie's wedding, they made out too. They could make it a habit. _Hah_.

"If that diva bluetooth thing buzzes, it means _save me._" Tommy gives Adam's fingers a squeeze and winds his way through people, head down, almost like he's trying not to be noticed. Fresh air, yeah, that'll be a good idea. A cigarette and a beer. Hold the LiLo.

There are so many people to talk to! Katy and Russell! And yes, Lindsay, though Adam suspects that he's some kind of weird go-between between her and Sam. He doesn't say that, though. He holds his drink and he doesn't get too close to anyone; he could smudge! And even as he talks, he keeps an eye out for Tommy.

Who knew that the balcony had bar service, too! Tommy's on his fourth cigarette and third beer, because this is _so_ not his scene. Not that he doesn't enjoy a good fucking party, but this is _class._ When Adam comes near the door to the patio, Tommy lets out a quick whistle to get his attention. And then orders a fresh beer and a fresh martini. "This is brutal. I have no idea what to say to _anyone._ I think I told someone I loved you because you're awesome? Hi. By the way."

"You just whistled at me," Adam laughs. "You whistled at me. That's hilarious. How much have you had to drink?" Because really, it would be bad for Tommy to get smashed when there are so many people here. So many people watching. "Are you having a horrible time?"

"I'm actually not having a horrible time. I've had three- two and a half beers, because I got a fresh one just now." Yeah, getting tanked at a party like this isn't quite the same as getting tanked at his sister's wedding. This is _publicity_ at its finest, and it's the same thought he'd had when they'd come in. He wants to make Adam proud. "I totally whistled at you so I wouldn't have to wave like a moron." Tommy runs a hand through Adam's hair. "I can't believe you're still like, completely pristine."

"Ack!" Adam really needs to train Tommy not to touch the hair except when they're in the process of undressing or already naked. One of Adam's hands holds Tommy's wrist and the other smooths down his hair. "We can't go yet, okay? But soon. Please don't drink anymore."

"I said _nothing_ about leaving, by the way. And I did _not_ kill your hair, so stop looking like I did." Tommy sets down his bottle and curls a grin up at Adam, tugging against the hold on his wrist. "Personally? I'm betting money that someone's got a picture that makes it look like we're fighting." So, he's not _drunk_, but more than two beers has him feeling, no surprise, fearless. "My next drink'll be a water."

"And there was much rejoicing," Adam agrees with a laugh. "Please drink water, okay? Do you want to mingle with me? I can introduce you around if you want." He lets go of Tommy's wrist to hold his fingers, instead. "We can confuse people."

"Good plan." The way his grip firms up in Adam's tells that yeah, he'd like to mingle. He'd like to confuse people, be introduced. Just... no questions. Because it is what it is, and Tommy's grin softens down into a dimpled little smile. "I've never had a boyfriend before. What do I do?"

How can Adam not smile at him when Tommy smiles like that? "You're beautiful, God." But he tugs, pulling Tommy back toward the room. "Just hold on to me. It'll be all right." Adam will protect him. As if that was even a question.

"You are full of cheese," Tommy retorts, staying as close to Adam as he can, keeping his mouth shut while Adam chats and smiles and is the Adam that leaves Tommy kind of in awe of him. When hors d'ouevres come out, Tommy grabs a few just to make sure he's good and sober by the time they leave, and grabs three or four on a plate for Adam. And... it _is_ alright. None of the people that Adam introduces him to are prying; they take "This is Tommy," exactly for what it is. It's kind of cool.

That's why Adam chose who he chose, mmkay? And when they slip back into the car, it's after midnight and he can finally pull Tommy close and kiss his hair. "You survived! Was it terrible?"

"It was totally not terrible." Tommy's shirt is untucked from his pants, the first couple of buttons unfastened. He leans up against Adam, walking his fingers up Adam's leg. "It was like... nobody cared. Which I'm not expecting to last, you know? I'm just- I don't know. Don't you ever get tired of having every move questioned?" By slouching a little more, Tommy can crane his head back to look at Adam.

It's too irresistible. Adam runs his fingertips along Tommy's jawline. It's an _amazing_ jawline. "Haven't we had this talk? I appreciate my fans, blah blah," he says. "Comes with the territory, I guess? If they stop paying attention, I guess I'm in trouble."

"Well, yeah, because that means I'm out of a job, too." Tommy nips at Adam's fingertips. "I'm _itching_ to get out of this suit, honestly."

~~

When Tommy _is_ out of his suit, it's in a slithery heap in one of Adam's chairs. What, it's not like he can just throw it in the hamper or anything, it has to be _dry-cleaned._ Ooh. So it can sit on the chair until tomorrow, and he'll drop it off when he grabs coffee. But for now, he's standing in the bathroom in his shorts and nothing else, wiping makeup off of his eyes. Because this is _his_ home, too, and that means not leaving the pillowcases smeary with glitter and eyeliner. Not unless they _really_ can't help it. "Do you think I'm a twink?"

Adam's mid-floss when he's asked, but his eyes widen as he finishes. When he drops the used floss in the trash he asks, "where did that come from? Did someone call you a twink?" He realizes that this moment probably isn't the best time to answer 'yes.'

"I read it somewhere. Twitter, I think. Or JustJared." Tommy looks at himself in the mirror, a hip tilted, mouth screwed over to one side. "I think I just look like... me. Twinks are like, teenage skinny _ew._" Which is everything that Adam isn't. But then Tommy thinks of Brad, of Drake, and then _really_ looks at himself. "Aw, fuck. Really?"

Smirking, Adam looks at Tommy in the mirror too. But he is wise; he says nothing, just reaching over to run his fingers through Tommy's hair. "You're beautiful. Labels don't matter. You know that." Then he goes back to what he was getting ready to do; brush his teeth.

Tommy makes a gruff little sound, turning here and there to look at himself. He looks like a guy, he thinks, a little smaller than most, but still, like. Dudely. Tattoos, a couple of piercings... aw, hell. "Well, thanks. You're not so bad yourself." Adam gets the quirk of an eyebrow in the mirror before Tommy turns away to get ready for bed. It's something else weird about living here: he'd never had trouble falling asleep in Adam's bed when he could go back to his apartment, but now that he's here every night, he's spent more than a few just lying here listening to Adam breathe.

A few minutes later, Adam climbs into bed too, face clean of make up except the smudges of eyeliner around his eyes and he snuggles under the covers, naked. Settled, head on the pillow, he smiles at Tommy. "Hi there."

Adam's answer is a closed-mouth little smile before Tommy schmoozes himself under the covers, too, instead of just sitting up and looking around like a dork. "Are you used to me being here?" He's on his back, looking at the ceiling instead of at Adam, and for some reason, something as simple as thinking about sleeping together makes him feel... weird. Maybe it was the 'twink' thing. Maybe it was the semi-matching outfits tonight. Maybe it's the idea of being Adam Lambert's Boyfriend instead of Tommy Joe Ratliff. What the fuck though, right? It shouldn't matter; he's in bed with someone he _loves_, after some kind of swank party where Adam had been _gorgeous_, funny, charming. Where's the bad in that, really?

That would be what Adam would say if he knew that Tommy's mind is buzzing like a little bee. "I like having you here. Wouldn't be saying I'm used to you be kind of weird. I like it." Under the covers, he reaches over, hand brushing up Tommy's hip to rest in that place between his hip and his ribs. "Are you used to being here?"

"Totally, no." Tommy laughs, though, pin-prickle aware of where Adam's touching him, how the weight of his hand feels, how warm it is on Tommy's skin. "I keep wondering why there aren't posters on the walls when I wake up, and like, why the bed's higher. I feel like I've gotta ask you before I eat something, you know? 'cause it's your place and your food. Dumb shit like that." With a sigh, Tommy turns onto his side so he and Adam are nose to nose. "And I'm not used to sleeping with someone every night. ...not that I mind."

"I'm glad you're here." Adam moves closer, leaning in to kiss over Tommy's shoulder to his neck. "Because if you weren't here, I couldn't do this." His hand slides lower, fingers brushing along the line of Tommy's pubic hair. "I'd have to do it to myself."

"And god, that'd be boring." Tommy's eyes fall closed though, his words both smiled and distracted. "Even though I've totally wondered what..." He breathes out a low sound, shifting closer in a fluid movement that starts with him tipping his head back for Adam's mouth and ends with his hips moving forward into Adam's touch. "...what it'd look like. What you look like when you do it." Just an idle fantasy, really, seeing Adam entirely unselfconscious, doing something that's always been _private._

"You want to see me jack off?" Adam can't keep the smirk off his face. "Why? Isn't it more fun to be interactive? I mean, unless you want me to come on you again." Which he certainly won't complain about, even as he runs his hand lower, covering Tommy's growing erection.

"It was just a _thought_," Tommy grumbles, feeling his face heat. "I don't know if I actually wanna _watch_, because I've seen, when you've-" Yeah, when Adam came on his face. And that was _ridiculous-stupid-hot._ "If you did wanna do that again... it'd be okay." The way he hardens against Adam's palm is natural, just the reaction he _should_ have when Adam touches him, and Tommy ducks his head to kiss that fucking smirk off of Adam's face. "Shut up, it was really hot in my head, okay?" A hand slides around Adam's waist, palming against the back of his hip, tugging him forward so he and Tommy are flush, with Adam's hand between them.

"I like your thoughts, though." The words are whispered against Tommy's mouth before Adam kisses him. "I think you should always share your thoughts. Don't be embarrassed, baby. Tell me what you want and I'll make it come true." Like a genie, or something. Ha.

"I like when you're hard with me," Tommy whispers, and wow, look how much his voice has dropped since Adam started touching him! Adam can feel the way Tommy's cock twitches, fully hard at the barrage of ideas that a few simple words bring down on him. _You should always share your thoughts._ Would Adam really make them come true? Seriously? "Like... remember the, uh. The first time? You..." Tommy clears his throat, kissing distractedly at Adam's jaw. "...you made me feel really... I don't know. Like you _wanted_ me, more than anything. And you were going to get what you wanted, no matter what."

"The first time ... At that club?" Adam smiles a little bit, hand wrapping around Tommy's cock and stroking. "You want some domminess?" But they're so cozy in bed! Hmmm. A-ha! "Don't move." One more kiss and Adam scoots away from him, turning to rifle through the drawer of the nightstand.

When he turns back again, he's wearing a smile and has something in his hands that Tommy can't see. "Hands over your head. Please."

Tommy didn't mean right this _moment!_ But it's not like he's going to turn it down, either, let's be honest. He can not-move. He can even not make a sound, something he _still_ resents, from that night in the bus. He'd been quiet! Now Tommy puts his hands over his head, pretty as Adam could ever want, and raises an eyebrow. "Now what... sir?"

What means handcuffs snapped over Tommy's wrist and laced through the headboard. It means Adam's wearing a smug smile, too. "Remember your safeword. No means no, always." But then he throws the covers back, exposing Tommy (and himself). The other thing he holds is a chain with alligator clips on either end. Both clips are attached to his boy's nipple rings. And then Adam tugs.

He tugs! And Tommy lets out a surprised, helpless yelp, and with just that one tug, he's watching Adam's face intently, brows drawn together, lower lip caught in his teeth. No, he hadn't meant right now, but Adam seems to have this magic sex-ninja power that he can turn on and off. Right now? It's _on_, as bright and blinding as a spotlight, and the chain of the cuffs rattle against the wood as the muscles in his arms involuntarily move, as if to try and cover himself.

"Shhh," Adam soothes. Then he tugs again. "I love the nipple rings, baby. I don't think I ever told you that. Sexy as fuck. Have you ever come just from that? Can you? Are you that much of a gorgeous slut?"

It's been established that Tommy likes when Adam's hard with him, but can it be added on that it's pretty weird that Tommy likes being called names, too? "I don't know," he breathes, looking down at the clips attached to two rings that are different sizes. Fuck. He keeps meaning to get ones that match, but most of the time, he doesn't even notice they're there. He notices right _now_ though, and when Adam pulls again, okay, yeah, his cock jerks against his hip.

"I think I'll fuck you and hold the chain, but not your cock. See if we can make you come," Adam tells him. Then they'll sleep in late tomorrow. And have pancakes. The excess of the chain is wrapped around his middle finger and Adam pulls again as he leans over to get lube from the nightstand drawer. "It's gonna feel good."

Tommy can only nod, struck dumb by Adam's addictive confidence, and while the pulling doesn't quite hurt, his nipples are more than sensitive enough to put in a complaint with Tommy's brain. The only problem is, Tommy's brain is currently being used to hold up the inside of his skull, and he can't say something like _you always say that_, because when Adam _does_ say that? He's usually right. Tommy's face is flushed right down to his collarbones, and he tries to look everywhere but at Adam's finger and the chain wrapped around it. It's like a leash. "Mmh. Okay."

It takes both hands to get the lube open and to get it smeared in his fingers, but that just means more sensations for Adam's boy, see. Then Adam is tossing the lube aside and twisting a finger inside, just at the same time as he pulls, really, on the chain again. It's actually very complicated. It's a good thing he's able to multitask.

It makes Tommy's body curl downward, shoulders off the mattress, stomach concave, hips tilted up. The combination of Adam pulling the chain and pushing into him sends all kinds of mixed signals to his nervous system; the sensory equivalent of keyboard mashing. Somewhere in there, though, there's an accusation, breathy and not even close to serious. "You are such a- _fuck._"

"Such a what?" Adam stills all his motions, head cocked as he waits for the answer. "That's not a very nice thing to say, whatever it was," he says, conversationally, the hint of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. "I could make sure you _don't_ come, either."

"I don't know," Tommy tries to reason. "You pulled and I forgot." To be honest, Tommy isn't sure _how_ he was going to end his sentence, and _please_ don't let Adam push it. Because Tommy honestly isn't sure. He looks down at his rings, at the clips attached to them, how the chain that's linking them is held taut by Adam, and husks, "Can you move your, uh, finger? 'cause it feels really weird just... there. Not doing anything. I'm sorry."

Honestly, most of the time, like right now, Tommy makes Adam _laugh_. He's actually hilarious; it's just that most people don't see it. The bratty part of Adam wants to shove a butt plug up Tommy's ass and leave it. Maybe at the next party; distraction as a plan for his boy to survive a party. Anyway. At the suggestion, he pulls the one finger out and twists in two, tugging at the chain again. An eyebrow cocks, _better?_

It only serves to make Tommy arch instead of curl, heels digging against the bed as his legs tighten, and every line of his body tells Adam how much Tommy doesn't know: how he doesn't know where to move, or how; he doesn't know how it could feel to have his rings tugged on like _that_, sharply, at the same time, and can't pair it with how Adam's fingers stretch and work and make him _ache._ Tommy pants quick and soft, eyes closed and head thrown back against the pillow, hands balled into fists above his head. He can't even _touch_ Adam, and it's driving him just as insane as everything else.

Good. A little insanity never hurt anybody, in Adam's opinion. Plus, Tommy looks so _pretty_ writhing around like that. Gorgeous. Good enough to have Adam's cock hard to aching and ready. In fact, after a few thrusts of two fingers, Adam pulls free and rubs the leftover lube on himself, already guiding himself in, other hand resting on Tommy's chest, chain still wrapped around his finger. "There," he whispers, eyes slits. "There."

Oh god, for all that Tommy likes when Adam's hard with him, _this_ is still something he's not used to. Some prep, but not nearly enough, before Adam's rocking into him. "Oh. _Fuck._" Words that are breathy and tense, pushed out through a clenched jaw as Tommy makes himself open his eyes to look up at Adam. "How does it feel?" he asks, the chain of the cuffs chittering up and down the slat that Tommy's fastened to. "How does it feel to do this to me?"

"Hot," Adam tells him. He pulls Tommy's legs up his chest, cradling them there and each time he shoves his hips in, he pulls on the chain connected to Tommy's nipple rings, setting up a nice rhythm that Tommy can't escape from. "Tight." He smirks. "How's it feel for you? Such a pretty slut."

Tommy really, honestly means to answer Adam, at least tell him he's a jerk for enjoying this so much - goading, maybe, just a little bit - but hell, let's be honest. Tommy's enjoying it too, a _lot_, the tug of the chain bordering on this side of painful, sharpening the sensation of Adam's cock, below. And he's bent at this _angle_ that leaves him with nowhere to go, nowhere to move except where Adam pushes and pulls him. "Good," he breathes, feeling the cuffs bite into his wrists as he hauls unthinkingly on them. Just to be able to touch Adam. Just a little.

"Don't cut yourself, baby," Adam whispers, reaching up with the hand connected to the chain, yanking without even thinking about it. But he can snap the release on one of the cuffs, setting Tommy somewhat free. "There." And then he concentrates on fucking Tommy, on snapping his hips forward, hard as he can as fast as he can.

"It's too much," Tommy rushes in one breath against Adam's neck, and instead of touching him, Tommy braces his weight on his elbow so he can steal greedy, messy kisses from Adam's mouth. It only lasts a moment before he falls back, free hand closing around Adam's wrist, maybe in an effort to keep him from pulling again, but there's no force in his grip. "It's too much," he says again, but it's not 'stop' and it's definitely not 'Rickenbacker'. It doesn't mean stop, and Tommy doesn't want it to stop, felt in the way his cock jerks against his hip, leaving a slick line behind connecting skin to skin.

So Adam doesn't stop. He pulls the chain and he fucks his boy and he can feel his own body get tight. No touching Tommy's cock, though he can feel it leak against his own belly. Adam is even working up a sweat, feeling it at the roots of his hair. "Are you close?"

Tommy nods even before he's actually sure of his answer, and all he can think is that Adam had better let him come, because rings and pulling and not enough prep means he _deserves_ it. And if Adam says no, Tommy's not even sure he'll know what to do. Each smack of Adam's hips against Tommy's, each tug of the chain, winds him up like a spring to that impossibly tight moment where something has to give. "Now," he gasps hoarsely. "I'm coming _right fucking now._"

"Good. _Come_," Adam all but orders, teeth clenched to bite back his own climax, at least for a few minutes longer. Just until he can feel Tommy come apart. He forces his eyes open so he can watch, fucking in harder. "Come on, baby. Come on!"

Adam's barely finished saying _Good_ when Tommy comes, hard enough that his fingertips dig into the wing of Adam's shoulderblade and the other cuff rattles as Tommy pulls on it again. For something so _deep_ so tight and hot and intense, Tommy's expression is curiously lax, eyes rolled back behind closed eyelids, lips parted on quick pulls of air. "Adam. _Adam._"

"Oh, God, good. Yesssss, good," Adam groans out as he feels his orgasm pulled out at the clench of Tommy around him. "Oh, _shit_, yes. Shit." He has to brace a hand on Tommy's chest to avoid pulling too hard on the chain still twined around his finger.

When he finally opens his eyes again, the smile on his face is lazy and blissed out before he bends down, nuzzling a kiss at Tommy's mouth before he pulls out and unhooks the clips with fingers that feel numb. Those things done, he can collapse onto his back. "Fuck."

"Ngh." With his free hand, Tommy scrubs over his face before pushing his hair back. "Holy shit." Adam just totally got him off without even touching his dick, and that is _pretty amazing._ It's kind of like when he'd come through the ring, but the intensity is less on the side of pain and seated more firmly in pleasure. "Am I dead? Did you fuck me to death?" Even as unsteady as his voice is, Adam can hear the grin in it without even having to see it.

"Lemme see." Heaving himself onto an elbow, Adam rests his hand over Tommy's throat (not choking!), but he can feel Tommy's pulse. "You seem alive to me." Then he bends down to press kisses to Tommy's mouth. "I love you." Even before he moves away, he gets the other cuff off Tommy's wrist then flops back.

Tommy's arm just sort of stays where it is, though, boneless and warm. "You might have all these kinks that you're throwing on me, but I didn't think necro would be one of 'em." He chases those kisses until Adam lays back, and then Tommy makes his slither off the bed to go clean up in the bathroom. "You see where my shorts went?" Absently, he flicks the rings in his nipples, feeling tender and hot, and tugs one, just to see if it still feels sexy. Look at that, nope! Adam's got the magic touch. It's only when he pulls the comforter back up onto the bed that he answers Adam. "I love you too. I really do."

"I know." Adam moves just enough to fetch some Kleenex to wipe Tommy down, then he settles into bed, closes his eyes and he falls asleep, curled around his boyfriend.

Tommy's own words, used against him. But the weight of Adam's body against his is comforting and protective, and while Tommy thinks about getting matching rings for next time, he dozes off too, face turned against Adam's so he can feel breath on his skin.

When they wake up, the sun is high in the sky, peeking through the blinds of Adam's bedroom window. Even groggy, Tommy takes one look at Adam before reaching for his phone to take a picture. This is how _no one_ sees Adam Lambert. Nobody except Tommy. Except... just as he takes [the picture](http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y155/Dramady/Adam%20Lambert/000xhqg2.jpg), Adam opens his eyes, and when Tommy looks at the image, he smiles, little and secret and glowing, and makes it into his wallpaper. "Morning, babyboy."

"What'd you do?" Adam asks, and it comes out all muzzy before he pulls Tommy close and takes his phone to see. "Oh, God," he laughs. "Nut." But under the covers, safe and warm and content, he lets the phone slide off to the edge of the bed and busies himself instead with his boyfriend's sleep-warm body. Both of them are under the covers; it's like a secret only they know and no one else can discover. Adam likes it like that.

**Author's Note:**

> (additional author's note: photo manipulation credited to the maker, found at claire-kay's LJ)


End file.
